


Going to Hell

by Anonymous



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bottom Gerard Way, Confessional, Demon Frank Iero, Exorcisms, Humor, M/M, Priest Gerard Way, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Top Frank Iero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:53:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29248326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: This isn't Father Way's first rodeo.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 37
Kudos: 88
Collections: Bandom Kink Meme





	Going to Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [bandomkinkmeme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/bandomkinkmeme) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  Priest Gerard tries to pray Demon Frank away, but Frank gets turned on from the pain. Gerard is startled by this, and Frank takes the chance to have a little fun. Frank tops. 
> 
> aditional idea: Frank has a very long demon tongue.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

You know how many times has Gerard heard that phrase? Because Gerard knows exactly. Go ahead, take a guess. 100? 200? Actually, have some help: Father Way is 30 years old and was ordained at the age of 20. He began doing confessions when he was assigned his own church at 25. He takes them on Tuesdays and Thursdays for 4 hours, having a 10-minute break in between. Confessions usually last 15 to 20 minutes. 

Okay, no. Stop doing math. This is not what we’re here for. What you need to know is: Confessions are standard for Gerard. He could do them in his sleep. All there is to it is listening to people rambling through their oh-so-dark mishaps and throwing in a few _‘Don’t worry, my child’_ plus _‘God forgives all’._ He doesn’t like calling people _my child_ that much, but it calms them down most of the time. He guesses it’s about the _Father_ thing. He’s supposed to be one for them instead of God. 

Well, not instead! In the name of God. That’s it.

So what is it about this confession in particular? The reason has a name. It’s Frank. The reason is a short, tanned man in his late 20s with a shaved head. The reason also has tattoos all over his body and is always letting them peak over the deep v-neck shirts he uses, just a size too small so they ride up whenever he stretches to let Gerard see more ink on his hips, enough for him to know it’s there, but never giving him the full picture. The reason knows exactly what he’s doing and can’t hide it behind an innocent smile, no matter how pleasant his features are. 

The reason is pretty. Pretty fucking annoying.

Yes, Gerard is allowed to curse in his own mind, fuck you very much.

“I confess that I have been having, and satisfying, homosexual desires.”

There’s also that. The reason—Frank only comes to confess sexual sins. Gerard has had to sit through at least 3 hours of this guy going in extensive detail about all the cocks he’s sucked (“Oh, I’m sorry, Father, should I say penises? Manhoods?”), how much cum he swallowed on his way here (“Is it better if I say seed?”) and how lonely his asshole feels (“I always feel empty afterwards. Not emotionally, I mean like my asshole needs something. Should I say anus, Father?”). 

“Again, Frank?” Gerard asks, unable to hold back his already annoyed tone.

“Yes. I’m so sorry, Father. I’ve let you down again.”

That’s the worst part, listening to him pretending to be sorry. He doesn’t even try! Gerard can see him smiling through the confessional’s latticed opening. His voice sounds like a challenge, one that Gerard has avoided to take upon since this started. 

“You have let God down,” he says, stirring the conversation away from him. Frank does this too, tries to make it personal, something that happened between them as if anything like _them_ exists. And if Gerard has been paying enough attention, then now is around the time he would resort to guilt tripping.

“Am I going to Hell, father?” 

“Most likely. If they are able to detach you from whatever dick you’re sitting on by the time you die.” Gerard declares, staring at his own nails instead of Frank’s silhouette. “Sorry. I meant penis. My child.”

It feels good to finally retaliate against him, even if it’s in the form of words. He can’t throw Frank out of the church only because he’s sick of his confessions; he’s supposed to have never ending empathy and patience, which he has provided in previous occasions, but not now. Now he’s had it. Frank’s not repentant at all, hearing his confession is a complete waste of time.

“Are you giving up on me?” he has the audacity to ask. 

“This is not about me. It’s about you and your absolute disrespect for God. Listen, I can give you a 100 Hail Marys to pray, but we both know you’ll be busy with your other activities that will bring you no remorse, so why don’t we skip it? Go in Peace or whatever, have fun.”

Gerard has never done this before, has never walked out of a confession, no matter how uncomfortable it has made him. And, again, it feels good. He opens his own door and steps out of the booth, ready to invite the next person in, only to find an empty church. That’s weird. There’s usually a line of people waiting for him.

“Father,” Frank calls, pulling on Gerard’s sleeve. “Don’t leave me, I need help!”

This is a new tactic. Frank’s eyes are a bit watery, he looks distressed enough for Gerard to let his guard down again. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I think—” Frank’s voice cracks, like he’s about to cry. “The devil’s in me, Father.”

Gerard should laugh. Not that demons aren’t real, he has seen them with his own eyes and exorcised them with his own hands; however, Frank pulling a prank on him by pretending to be possessed is more likely than you think. Although it makes sense that only a demon could be _this_ annoyingly obsessed with him. 

Still skeptical, he holds Frank’s chin and looks at his face, searching for signs of demonic possession. He sees a red spark in his eyes followed by pure black where the irises should be, which is the equivalent of a neon sign reading ‘LUCIFER’S PROPERTY’ when it comes to evil.

Fuck. This shit is real. A fucking demon. This is Gerard’s fucking luck, of course. And he thought he would be home in time for The Big Bang Theory and making some instant ramen in his underwear. Now he has to deal with this shit. Mikey’s going to have a fucking blast laughing at him for not noticing earlier that his most insufferable parishioner was being possessed. He feels plain out stupid for letting it carry for so long.

“Don’t be scared. It’s fine, Frank,” Gerard uses his most soothing voice while getting an arm around the man’s shoulders, both to calm him down and to prevent the demon from taking over completely and trying to escape. Interrupting the Archbishop on bingo night to report an evil creature on the loose is something he doesn’t need.

“Thank you, father,” Frank sticks closer to him and Gerard’s lips press together in a thin line. He has to remind himself this is the demon trying to tempt him, not the person. He shouldn’t be hating Frank. Well, to be fair, he shouldn’t be hating anybody, he’s a priest for fuck’s sake, that’s on the fucking Bible. He shouldn’t be hating Frank even if his hand is squeezing his ass like it’s a fucking lemon. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.”

“It’s… fine, my child.” Gerard takes a deep breath. The demon is still toying with him, and Gerard tries to blame it on its influence for the torture images he gets in his head. Of course he won’t enjoy throwing holy water at it, he’ll only do it because he has to.

However, in this exact moment, Gerard can’t startle the creature. He needs to lock it in his office before he does anything to get rid of it. Wouldn’t it be cool if priests got badges with the demons they have exorcised? Gerard has been making his own and is wondering now what color this particular creature is to keep his mind off how Frank’s hand is slowly going between his legs to rub at something else while they walk. Could it be a lust demon, or just a little piece of shit who enjoys bothering priests?

He opens his door for Frank, who unlatches from him to look around and say: “Wow, you’re a fucking nerd,” only because Gerard has a few comic books in there and, okay, a couple of superhero posters on the back of the door. He wasn’t expecting company. “Father.” 

“Sure, please, not calling me Father is SO disrespectful.” 

Gerard locks the door in a hurry, refusing to take it for one more second. He turns around to confront Frank and doesn’t bother hiding his smile. No one is here to see him being a terrible catholic who’s unwilling to turn the other cheek; na ah! Gerard is not giving this demon any more of his ass to squeeze. He’s destroying this fucker right here, right now. _“Lorem ipsum,”_ he starts reciting, taking the rosary from under his robes to hold it in his hands, pointing the cross over Frank’s face. _“Dolor sit amet consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua.”_

It goes as it should. Frank is on his knees, whimpering from pain, and Gerard thinks it paints a pretty picture. Like, a demon being put back in its place, not that Frank looks good kneeling. Shut up. He can’t get distracted, this is the crucial point; the demon already knows it’s being attacked and will try to escape, so Gerard moves fast to put the rosary over his neck, restraining his movement. As in every cliché horror movie, the beads burn Frank’s skin, but they also make him lower his torso until his forehead is touching the floor from how heavy religious objects are to demons.

“P-Please…” Frank’s voice sounds distressed again. Gerard is going through his drawers looking for holy water, also making a mental note to buy some more rubber bands and paper clips. “Father, please…”

He reminds himself the creature is trying to save its ass. Gerard’s not a rookie anymore. There was this one time he fell for this type of charade and ended up in a pretty embarrassing situation where he had to explain to an older priest why all of the pictures of Jesus had dicks drawn all over and it totally had been a demon and not him although he didn’t have said demon in custody as proof. Listen. You can’t trust demons, okay? No matter how pretty the human they chose to possess is or how your heart clenches watching them suffer.

Besides, Frank is going to be alright. Sore and with horrible scars for sure, but fine overall. 

“There she is!” Gerard raises a steel flask over his head in victory. After a pause, he lowers and uncaps it, bringing it to his nose. He sniffs and nods. It’s the holy water one, no doubt. He makes a mental note to buy some labels too.

The guy raises his head, making so much effort his face is red and there are tears in his eyes, veins bulging on his neck from the strain. “What is that?”

“Not whisky.” His joke attempt goes over Frank’s head. Gerard doesn’t take it personally, it’s obvious this is not his best moment and, to be honest, Gerard isn’t having the greatest time either. He pictured the exorcism differently, with less watching this man suffering and more saving the day and being a hero, which hasn’t happened yet. _“Ave Maria, gratia plena._ _Dominus tecum,”_ he prays some more, uncapping the flask.

Frank is shaking. He looks so small from where Gerard is standing. The same voice telling him of his slutty stupid adventures for weeks is now coming in groans of pain that Gerard can’t ignore as easily as he would’ve wanted to. This is why he’s a priest. No matter how cynical he may have gotten over the years, he still believes in good and still wants to help, so he does. 

“Frank?” he calls, crouching in front of him to caress his hair. He thinks the demon is hiding deep inside, leaving the human to feel the pain. “It’s going to be over soon, okay?”

He stares into Frank’s eyes when he lifts his head again and can’t help but look at his lips just in time to watch them curve in the most wicked grin he has ever seen. “Harder, Father.”

It fucking scares the living hell out of Gerard; his own eyes open wide and he jerks back, standing up again, his heart beating too fast in his chest. All he can do is dump the holy water on Frank’s head, getting back into plan with no more room for pity. _“In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti! Amen!”_

Frank screams.

This is the part where the demon is expelled; it usually comes out in a sort of smoke that smells like vinegar with rotten eggs and lingers for like a month no matter what you do. Gerard has never wanted more to have it in his nose. Instead, he watches Frank’s skin evaporating as horns grow on his head. Long, black, twisted horns. And there’s another layer of skin under the evaporating one, with the same tattoos but over a supernatural color; it’s sort of reddish? Also dark. It’s weird, it has some sort of shine to it. Gerard searches inside his brain for a word to describe it because maybe he can’t deal with this shit anym—IRIDESCENT! That’s it.

“Say some more shit in latin,” Frank licks his lips. “It’s so fucking hot.”

“You’re a—you’re not possessing a human.” Gerard realizes. “You’re a demon. A full one. A boss demon?”

“Archdemon.” 

“Fuck, I should’ve called the Archbishop…”

“Na, he’s too old for me.” Frank rips the rosary around his neck, its beads bouncing all over the floor as he stands up.

“I guess.”

WHAT THE FUCK? What is this fucking conversation and why is he so calm about being in front a fucking masochist Archdemon called Frank?!

He’s too slow to recover from the initial shock. Frank already has him cornered against his desk, pressing with his hot demon body; it’s literally hot, like there’s an inhuman heat to him, not that Gerard is appreciating how good looking he still is in this new skin color and with the horns. Oh, his eyes are black too. He’s really a fetish from a horror movie. Porn horror movie, it seems, because he can now feel right in his thigh how much Frank liked being tortured by him. “C’mon, you got any more holy water, Father?”

“I have, uh—regular water? I can consecrate it real quick, if you just let me—”

“You’re lying,” Frank interrupts. He places his hands on either side of Gerard’s hips, on the desk, and gets closer to sniff his neck. “Isn’t that a sin, Father?”

“God needs me alive, she’ll understand.” 

“Oh, I won’t kill you, don’t worry.” Frank lets Gerard see him smiling before going back to his neck, giving a long lick that ends up with a bite on his jaw. “I just wanna fuck you.”

Gerard feels like the air has been knocked out of his lungs and grabs on to Frank’s shoulders, trying to push him away. He shouldn’t be this surprised, he saw it coming, right? The whole thing with Frank has been the shittiest slow burn ever, a terrible version of Fleabag x Hot Priest —Yes, of course Gerard watched the show. It’s beautifully done and Phoebe Waller-Bridge is amazing in it. So is Andrew Scott, for that matter.

“That’s… nice?” Gerard tries. He does feel flattered. “But, you know, celibacy. Took vows and all. I’m married to Her.” He points at the sky where God better be watching how faithful he’s being.

“God needs you alive.” Frank bites on Gerard’s earlobe this time. “She’ll understand.”

Fuck. Frank’s voice right in his ear really does it for him. He shuts his eyes before he can think of ways to resist and is hit with memories of his confessions, of how deep inside he couldn’t wait for Frank to come over again to listen to his stories, of how much he has jerked off to them and how he would always remember the way he said ‘Father’ as he came. It’s his most shameful secret. Of course it feels good to blame it on him, this Archdemon that clearly is messing with his mind.

“Is Frank your real name?” he has to ask.

“It’s the one I use here. My real name is too fucking long.” Gerard nods. He does nothing when Frank takes one of his hands and places it with no hesitation on his own crotch. “You know what else is really fucking long?”

“Oh my God,” Gerard gasps. “I’ve been out of the game forever, but that’s so fucking cheesy.”

Frank takes no offense. Or Gerard stops paying attention. There’s letting the demon have his way with him and there’s participating. Encouraging. He could leave his hand flat, not do anything while Frank’s hand keeps his there. He thinks about it, but his fingers have life of their own; they trace the hard cock that’s under them, holding and cupping it to get a sense of how thick it is. Gerard has missed this more than he wants to admit. He can’t believe he’s touching a dick other than his own once again. His hand travels further, trying to cup his balls when he hears a laugh.

“You’re a terrible priest.”

“I’m deeply offended,” Gerard frowns and it would be believable if he wasn’t undoing Frank’s torn jeans and sneaking his hand to touch his cock directly, biting his lip at the first contact. “This is clearly mind control. I don’t want this,” he declares firmly, as firmly as his fingers wrap Frank’s dick.

“You’re deeply turned on,” Frank argues, going back to sniff his neck. “I can smell it, you know?”

Gerard wonders what being turned on smells like. He doesn’t get a chance to ask though, as Frank decides to put his hands on the priests’ robes and dig his fingers in, enough to rip a hole in them, tearing the fabric from there. A shiver goes down Gerard’s spine as he’s being stripped, Frank getting rid of his collar too, throwing everything on the floor, including his pants and undershirt. He’s soon standing there in his underwear, more embarrassed than he should be. It’s been quite a while since anyone’s seen his briefs. Let’s not even talk about the stuff inside them.

It’s dumb, but he tries to cover up and feels his own face blushing. It only makes Frank more eager to get him naked though, as he pushes Gerard until he’s laying on the desk and bats his hands away from his crotch. “Let me see already,” he grumbles. Gerard bites his lips, shutting his eyes while the piece of clothing is being pulled down his legs. He knows Frank will either mock him for how hard and wet his cock is, or for— “Fucking shit. Are you for real?” Frank’s hands are on his thighs. “C’mon, spread your legs, let me see.”

Gerard’s still choosing not to watch, assuming Frank’s grin will be too much, so he can’t help but gasp in surprise —and, okay, lust too— when he feels the demon’s tongue on his balls. Frank is probably testing for himself how well he shaved them. 

“I’m not a pervert,” Gerard says. He needs to say it.

“Yes, you are,” Frank shoots back immediately, like he isn’t the one licking up Gerard’s cock as if it was a lollipop. “You shave your balls.”

“For—ah! Aesthetic purposes…”

“So you take pictures?”

“No!”

It’s difficult to defend his morals as Frank sucks his dick into his mouth, Gerard realizes. He’s also fucking melting at the touch, having forgotten what a blow job feels like. It’s Heaven (sorry, God). Frank’s tongue is all velvety and hotter than a human’s. His throat also feels amazing, but Frank doesn’t let him enjoy it too much, taking him out to lap at his balls again, maybe because he still wants to drive Gerard insane. 

Of course Gerard won’t play. He’s only doing this because there’s no choice. The fact that it’s turning out to be pleasurable it’s just—oh shit, fuck. Frank’s tongue is going lower, it’s going places Gerard has only touched after hiding every single bible in his apartment and turned all of his Jesus figures to the wall so they won’t give him judgemental looks. Gerard only notices his mouth is hanging open when a drop of spit falls down his chin.

“I feel like you wanna ask me something.” Frank suddenly stops the trail.

“What?” Gerard blinks, disoriented, just now watching the demon. Fuck, right. This isn’t any normal guy, this one has horns. “I… what?”

“Tell me what you want. Father.”

Well, for starters, he would like for Frank to have a less beautiful face so he could at least attempt to kick it and fight his way out of the situation he’s in. He would also like to stop thinking of how wrong it all is. He’s starting to feel the guilt… The Catholic guilt.™ 

“I want you to stop this.” 

“Mm, wrong answer.” Frank shakes his head no. “I think you want my tongue in your ass.”

Gerard blushes. Hard. His ears are red. Fuck, that was so hot to hear.

“I don’t.” He lies.

“You sure?” This time Frank licks his lips, but that’s not the only thing he does, oh no. He sticks his tongue out and… it doesn’t stop where it should. It doesn’t _end_ where a normal, human tongue does. 

It’s as fucking long as Gerard’s sermons. And Frank’s demon name.

“Shit,” Gerard murmurs, or moans. His eyes almost cross watching it. He now wants it inside more than anything he has ever wanted before. “O-Okay… do it.”

“Do what?”

Fuck. Fuck this demon forever. Gerard covers his face with both hands, but Frank stands up and grabs his wrists, forcing him to make eye contact as he says: “Your tongue…” 

“What do I do with it?”

“Fuck me.”

“Good call, _Father.”_ Frank fucking kisses him, as if Gerard needed to know how his stupid soft lips feel like. “I’ve been wanting to eat you out for weeks.”

Gerard briefly wonders what stopped him from doing whatever he wanted before. However, he notices again how difficult it is to have any type of thinking when there’s a demon tongue involved with one of his private parts. He’s suddenly holding his own thighs to his chest as Frank folds him and gets to it, not being shy about pressing his tongue to Gerard’s asshole, drenching it in spit. Surely demons produce a lot of it with their ridiculously long tongues. Gerard feels spit running down his crack. He shivers.

Care to guess how many times Gerard has been rimmed in his life? Two. Exactly twice. The first one was his one-year anniversary with his high-school sweetheart who wanted to try it out. The second one was the night before he started his preparation as a priest, and it almost made him reconsider. Now he’s sure he made the right choice, otherwise he wouldn’t be here, being pleasured by a demon. Life’s good. God acts in mysterious ways. God takes away and God gives back. 

It does feel like Frank is searching for his soul in there, twirling his long tongue against his walls, pressing his prostate skillfully, as if he had a fucking map of Gerard’s insides. Gerard’s eyes roll to the back of his head and he’s drooling again. He could come anytime. His body doesn’t know how to hold pleasure in, just begs for more, chasing Frank’s tongue when he moves back to pull out. His dick feels like it’s about to burst, but Frank’s not giving him any relief, he only licks it a few times, gathers the precum on his tongue and goes back to his asshole, fucking torturing him. If Gerard could think of any coherent words, he would complain. All he manages is moaning and panting, that’s all he’s good for right now.

“I knew you were a slut,” Frank says, triumphantly. His chin is shining with spit. “Gonna beg for my cock, little bitch?”

Right. Cock. Cock sounds good, yeah. Gerard would like some cock. “Just…” he starts talking and surprises himself by how rough and sex-tinged his own voice sounds. “Just give it to me.”

“What about your celibacy, father?” The demon not only teases him with words, but also with the tip of his cock grinding against his asshole. “Gave that up already? That easy?”

Gerard lets go of his thighs, noticing how they’re already sore from where he was digging his own fingers, and his hands travel lower, until they reach his cheeks. He holds himself open. “Fucking stick in, you shitty demon.”

He’s already come this far, he doesn’t care anymore. And he knows Frank wants him enough to show up regularly just to mess with him, so he won’t stop either. Not now. Not when he’s this close.

Frank hasn’t been subtle at all and he doesn’t start now. His eyes go straight to Gerard’s hole and his cock follows; he holds it in his hand, pushing inside, going deep in one hard thrust. Gerard holds his breath. It’s fucking amazing. He has missed being full more than anything, so much that he tries to capture every detail to replay it in his head in the future. He hopes Frank won’t make him admit his dick really is long.

He wants to come, it’s all he can think about, but he can’t reach down to touch himself; his hands are clutching the edge of the desk, giving him enough support to roll his hips and meet Frank’s thrusts. Even so, he’s conscious enough to watch the guy’s face. The demon’s face. He looks good all lost in sex, no hint of his challenging attitude. 

Gerard lets go of the desk and holds on to Frank’s back, bringing him down for a kiss. Yeah, he wants a kiss, he wants to taste his lips and explore his mouth. Their teeth bump together and he doesn’t care, can only focus on how good his ass feels each time Frank’s cock hits deep inside and how close he is to his own release. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mutters against Frank’s mouth, shutting his eyes and digging his nails on the demon’s back, coming all over himself after just a touch of Frank’s fingers on his cock. It’s almost pitiful how much it makes him tremble.

Frank looks into his eyes for a moment and smiles. Do not be tricked though, it’s not a warm one. He’s laughing at Gerard for coming too soon. 

“Shut up,” Gerard mutters and lets go of him, going back to laying on the desk, which Frank takes as an invitation to fuck him harder. Gerard doesn’t disagree.

Frank folds him again, holding his thighs, and pounds him faster. Gerard is starting to get oversensitive, which makes him moan louder. He has no idea how much time has passed, lost in the sensation, when Frank pulls out and finishes jerking off on top of him, ejaculating on his chest and belly, like he’s painting a picture. There’s a lot of cum, plus his own. It’s disgusting. Also hot.

“Wow, thank you.” Gerard fakes a smile, trying to catch his breath. He sits up on the desk, wincing from his ass being already sore. “Won’t worry about getting pregnant.”

“You’re the worst priest ever, seriously,” Frank laughs. Gerard reaches for his torn robes to clean up. “I like you.”

“Bet you say that to all the priests you fuck.”

“No, just the pretty ones.”

“I’ve been truly blessed.”

Now Gerard wonders why this happened. It must mean something, right? Does God want him to question his faith? Or maybe challenge the vows priests are forced to take? Should he continue his life as a demon slayer? Well, demon fucker? What the fuck is he supposed to do with this?

“So,” Gerard looks up and Frank is in his human disguise again. “See you on Thursday?”

“Okay?” he tilts his head. “Um, go in peace?”

Frank nods and walks out the door. Gerard still has no fucking clue what to do with any of this, but desperately needs a cigarette and his flask of whisky.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a thing for demons, **you** have a thing for demons.


End file.
